


Contacting a Fashion Show

by SilverNight104



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, F/M, Gift, MLSS2017, Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverNight104/pseuds/SilverNight104
Summary: No Miraculous AU. Adrien (still a model) and Marinette (intern at Gabriel’s) have been chatting for years as a result of being jokingly being matched up on a dating site by Nino and Alya. They’ve always wanted to meet on their own terms, but fate has something else in store for them.





	Contacting a Fashion Show

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for MLSS2017! My giftee has no AO3 I can find (at the moment) so let it be known this is for aneasysun on tumblr! Enjoy!

**“It’s fine, Chat Noir. It’s my fault for not setting aside some time to get a ticket to the show anyway. There’s plenty of other fashion shows this month. Don’t worry about it.”**

Adrien was nervous - would Ladybug be opposed to the idea of him giving her the missed opportunity to get tickets to the showing of the winter Gabriel’s collection? – and it showed in his fingers as he shakily typed out the question. **“I’ve actually got tickets to Gabriel’s Winter Collection – would you like to go?”**

The reply was instantaneous.

 **“NO WAY!”** Ladybug typed, before she sent another text. **“Are you serious??”**

A grin grew on Adrien’s face as he typed. **“Would I joke about this to you, bugaboo?”**

A lull as Ladybug read the text, then paused in her reply. Adrien grew worried as the seconds passed. Was that the wrong thing to say to Ladybug? Maybe he should have just replied with a polite yes?

Then she resumed typing, and sent her text back. **“Yes! I’d love to go!”**

Adrien laughed out loud. She loved it! She really loved it! He was ecstatic, maybe Ladybug would finally get to see him in person – oh wait. The girl he loved was coming to watch him. Maybe he should just cop out on the show? What if he made a mistake?

His panicking stopped when he saw a new message pop out on his phone screen. **“How much for the ticket?”**

**“It’s free, my lady.”**

She typed back quickly. **“Chat, I can’t let you pay for me. How much is it? I can afford it.”**

How best to put it in a believable way that she didn’t find out he was the owner’s son? Ah.

**“I won these in a competition, so it didn’t cost me anything.”**

He could picture her sigh of relief as he read her message: **“That’s good. I didn’t want you to pay for such expensive tickets.”**

Then he realized something. **“How am I supposed to get the ticket to you?”**

He marveled at how she instantly had a solution. **“Pass it to Carapace and tell him to pass it to Rena. She’ll pass it to me.”**

Carapace – his friend Nino – was currently in a dedicated relationship with Ladybug’s friend, Rena. Both knew each other in real life and knew not to reveal who Chat Noir or Ladybug were to each other. It was a perfect solution. His lady was so smart.

 **“Perfect!”** He typed. **“I’ll pass it to him tomorrow so there’s a day for you to get the ticket since the show is in two days.”**

 **“Thanks Chat!”** She typed. **“I’m feeling a lot better now thanks to you! :)”**

Adrien sighed wistfully. She sent him a smiley face. Ladybug only did that when she was really happy. He made her so happy.

—-

It was the day. In her bedroom, Marinette checked her outfit – a simple flared red dress with a light black jacket overlaying it, her red purse and black ballet pumps. It was simple but formal enough for her to be at a fashion show, especially considering this was her boss’. Despite not being assigned to work on the fashion show today, she was still supposed to make a good impression considering her position as one of his interns.

Then she glanced at the clock, and gasped. It was time for her to go! She ran down the stairs, closing the trapdoor behind her and bidding her parents a goodbye as she raced down the street towards the Gabriel building, where the fashion show was to be held.

She was breathing hard, but not sweating as she finally slowed her walk down enough to make her way to the queue leading into the building. It was long, and she could see many fashion students gathered there – she recognised some of them from her course at the university. 

Then she was beckoned forward – the line was moving quite quickly for being so long, she realized – and handed her ticket over. The guard inspected it, before raising a brow, staring closer at Marinette before checking the ticket again.

She bit her lip nervously. She trusted Chat, she knew he would never give her a fake ticket, but was it possible that the competition that had given her the ticket was shady? Gave him a fake ticket? 

Then the guard cleared his throat, and handed her the ticket back. “Apologies for the delay, madam. Your seat is in the front row.”

Taking the proffered ticket, she heaved a sigh of relief once past the guard, only to wonder exactly what competition that Chat had entered in order to obtain such fantastic tickets. Front row seats were expensive, and a competition suddenly didn’t sound so likely anymore. What kind of person was he to obtain one of the rare and coveted VIP seats?

Making her way to the front, where all of the rich and famous sat – all of them giving her looks as she did so – she located her seat, only to pale immensely as she realized it was next to her boss’. Where on earth had Chat gotten those tickets?

She was completely nervous, looking to her left, where her boss sat, and the right, where there was an empty seat. She contemplated moving over to the empty seat, but the appearance of her boss shocked her in her tracks. 

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

She summoned up what was left of her courage as she nodded politely towards her boss. “Hello, Mr Agreste.”

“Where did you get that ticket?” he asked, his facial expression stoic.

“My friend gave it to me,” Marinette explained. “He said he won it in a competition and gifted one to me.”

Mr Agreste’s lips twitched - a sign that he was surprised - before his eye twitched slightly and he suddenly nodded to Marinette, before taking his seat, Nathalie taking a seat to his left. Marinette heaved a sigh of relief silently, before turning her attentions to the show.

She was almost beginning to relax and enjoy the ambient atmosphere as she looked around, examining the room before there was a light hum to her left and Nathalie was urgently whispering to Mr Agreste. 

His eyebrows furrowed slightly and Marinette twitched as she realized he was not happy.

He rose from his chair, Nathalie alighting with him, before he turned his gaze onto Marinette. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, I apologise for interrupting your viewing of the show but I require you backstage immediately,” he stated quietly.

Eyes narrowing with curiosity, Marinette nodded, before quickly alighting from her seat and following her boss. On the way, she silently pulled out her phone, quickly sending Chat two texts. **“Where are you? I’m inside already.”** and **“Going out for a moment. I’ll try to be back before the show starts.”** in the case that he found his way to the vacant seat beside her.

She slipped her phone back into her purse just before Mr Agreste walked around a curtain and behind a door to reveal the models in a state of pandemonium. “We are done, Pierre!” One model called, her smoky eyes glistening with anger as she turned away from a tuxedo clad man.

“Myra, please, I can explain!”

“Explain sleeping with Bell behind my back? That’s my best friend, you idiot! Any woman would have been fine if it wasn’t Bell!”

“Enough.” Mr Agreste stated calmly, to no avail as the woman started to scream expletives at the man who was cowering behind the other male models. Another model, clad in a furry grey sweater and professional blue jeans was clutching the screaming woman’s shoulder, pleading with her to calm down, only to get thrown back as the woman started physically flailing to get her off.

“Enough.” Mr Agreste raised his tone a few decibels above his previous and the screaming woman finally heard him, turning to face the fashion mogul who had a scowl on his face.

“For what reason do you have to be interrupting my show, Miss Tyler?”

Suddenly the model had no words as she realized what she had been doing: screaming at her lover over a brief spat that could have been done as the show was over. Disrespecting her boss, which was quite clear by his scowl and raised tone of voice. Making the show run behind with her screaming. She paled immensely, her mouth opening to say something before Mr Agreste held up a hand, silencing her. 

“Consider yourself fired as soon as the show is over, Miss Tyler.”

He turned to Marinette. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, please make yourself useful and see what damage Miss Tyler has caused to both her and Miss Nichol’s clothes.”

Marinette nodded once, passing by one of the tables to check on Bell first, seeing as she looked physically worn out by the flailing. She felt along the hem of the sweater, before running her fingers along the sleeves, checking for tears. Her eyes ran along the designs, checking that they were immaculate still, before checking the jeans, which were harder to see but still more visible. Straightening, she pronounced her clothes fine.

She was then replaced by a more senior designer, beckoned forward by Mr Agreste, who confirmed her assessment. By that time, she was inspecting the coat Myra wore, frowning as she felt along the hem, where she saw that Bell’s long nails had created a small rip in the durable fabric. Moving onwards, she checked the blouse and leggings, both of which had escaped damage. 

“It’s the coat, Mr Agreste. A two centimeter tear along the inside of the arm.”

“Repair it, Clara,” He said, beckoning another senior designer over, who was scrutinising Marinette closely, wondering why the intern was here. 

“No other noteworthy damage, sir. The coat was the only article I didn’t get to inspect.”

“Clara will repair it. Miss Dupain-Cheng, you may return to your seat.”

Taking the chance to escape the room’s curious stares, Marinette bid a thank you to Mr Agreste, before discreetly slipping back to her seat.

Checking her phone, she was disappointed to see her texts unread, and a bit worried. Had Chat been unable to make it? Was he stuck in traffic?

The questions pondered themselves in her mind, and the next few texts sent too found themselves unread. When she made it back to her seat, her adjacent seat was vacant and Mr Agreste was returning, so she put her phone back into her purse and settled back into her seat, ruminating the disappearance of her friend.

Even by the time the fashion show was over she had been unable to fully appreciate the beauty of the clothes shown as she worried over her friend. Biting her lip, she made to leave just after Mr Agreste stood, quickly bypassing the people giving her curious gazes only to have her arm grasped from behind.

“Sorry,” A blonde boy apologised the moment he saw her face. “You looked like someone I know from behind.”

“It’s fine,” She said, accepting the apology easily, before looking at him, her eyes lighting up as she recognised him. _’It’s Adrien Agreste! He just have been in the show just now.’_

Then she excused herself, exiting the door and pulling out her phone to see no replies to Chat Noir. Worry rising up in her, she finally decided to dial the number. The two rarely called each other as Chat said that he was often around other people and Marinette understood it well.

“Ladybug?” A voice said.

“Where are you?” She hissed into the phone. “I’ve been worried sick since you never showed!”

“Huh?” He said, befuddled. “I was here.”

“What?” She said, confused. “The seat next to mine was empty!”

A sheepish chuckle, and then she heard a sharp voice: “Sir, the limo is pulling up now.”

“Good,” A curt voice said on the other line. “Adrien, come. You can chat with your friend later.”

Eyes widening with shock, Marinette finally turned herself and saw Adrien Agreste looking mollified, before he spoke. “I’m sorry, but I have to go, LB.”

The boy got into the limo, the bodyguard Marinette knew as Gorilla shutting the door behind him before he got in himself and drove the car away.

“Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste,” She whispered in shock. “No way…”

—-

Adrien was worried. Ladybug had not responded to any of his texts – his fault, he supposed, for not managing to reply during or after the show – and his father was scrutinising him more than ever when they met at mealtimes, never saying anything but always looking.

So when he walked in on a Monday morning for a photoshoot, he had a lot on his mind and didn’t think much of it when his father told him that he was going to be helping an intern with designs for a university module.

At least, he didn’t think much of it until the intern greeting him had her mouth agape and dropped the bolt of fabric she had been carrying onto his shoes.

“I’m so sorry!”

Wincing in pain, he waved the apology away. “It’s fin-”

“Chat Noir?” She whispered.

His head jerked, and he took a closer look at her. “Ladybug?”

—-

Seven years later Marinette found herself the head of the Gabriel brand, Adrien a lecturer at College Francoise-Dupont with Louis, Hugo and Emma absolutely denying any relation to the blonde mathematics teacher (not that their surnames helped).

Their contact names were still Ladybug and Chat Noir.


End file.
